Life is not a Faerie Tale
by pucktofaerie
Summary: Unexpected circumstances lead Mark to the one place he never thought he'd see againlove. But can this new relationship end happily ever after, or will real life get in the way? Slightly AU...Angel lives!
1. Of Damsels and Dragons

A/N: Hi guys. So, I know this story isn't exactly going to seem to follow the way it's set up, but stay with me, kay? It'll all make sense eventually. This is the revamped version of 'Of Secrets Great and Small' cause I realized that my vision for that story had completely changed. But this one should work out okay. So let me know what you think, cause I'll been gypped on reviews lately.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Almost wish I did, so that I could have Mark and his camera and maybe take a break from this heat wave and go freeze my butt off in Bohemia. I mean, come on—it's 12:30 in the morning and 80 degrees outside. That's just wrong.

Chapter 1: Damsels and Dragons…or at least Taxi Cabs

In retrospect, Mark should have known that it couldn't be real. Real life relationships didn't start this way. This was the stuff of fairy tales. He was certainly no Prince Charming…so how was he saving a damsel in distress?

But that's exactly where Mark Cohen found himself, on a beautiful spring day in the middle of the city. The film maker was riding towards the community center, trying to make sure he made it in time for Life Support. Of course, he was also hitting every red light in his path. Now he found himself on a street corner, one foot on the ground, eyes roaming aimlessly, subconsciously looking for something interesting to film. Instead, he found something that was interesting in a whole other meaning.

A few steps down from him stood a young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a ragtag assortment of clothes, with a messenger bag swung over one hip. She caught his eye when he saw her pull a camera out of her bag and focus on something on a rooftop across the street. Mark looked up, following her line of sight, trying to figure out what she was capturing. Failing to see it, he looked back at the girl, watching her twist the focus on her camera vainly. A small smile crossed his lips, recognizing a fellow artist at work. But that smile fell as several things seemed to happen at once.

Mark suddenly felt as though everything around him had slowed down. He saw the girl shifted her weight forward, one foot coming up and preparing to step off the sidewalk. He also saw the taxi out of the corner of his eye, speeding down the street to make the yellow light at the corner. And the girl was completely unaware of it, focusing solely on getting the right shot of whatever held her attention. Suddenly Mark was up and over his bike, stumbling over his feet the few steps to the photographer, grabbing her jacket and pulling her back and down in the same movement as they both fell off balance.

Somehow the shy filmmaker found himself staring down into the most beautiful set of green-brown eyes he'd ever seen. Realizing his awkward position, he rolled away from the girl and quickly shuffled to his feet, before extending a hand to his fallen comrade.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as she took his hand and he pulled her upright.

"I think so," she answered, breaking her gaze to inspect the camera in her hand. Fortunately, it had landed between them, so it seemed intact. She quickly tucked it away in her bag before lifting her gaze back to her rescuer. Tucking a long curly strand of dark red hair behind one ear, she looked sheepishly at Mark. "Thanks."

He nodded, a look of shock on his face. They both took shaky deep breaths, realization setting in of what had just happened. Mark moved past the girl, picking up his bike and making sure he hadn't damaged it in the fall. Shuffling her feet nervously, the girl tugged on the strap to her bag, watching his actions.

"I'm Talia," she blurted, almost before she meant to. Mark looked up at her, a smile starting to find its way back to his face.

"Mark," he answered. Talia smiled as he started to move off.

"Could I…buy you a drink?" she asked, stopping him in his tracks. Mark turned and looked at her, a little confused. Talia took a step towards him, gesturing and speaking a little nervously. "I don't normally do this, but…it seems like the least I can do, seeing how you kinda saved my life."

Mark found himself staring at her, unsure of how he should answer. Part of him really wanted to say yes, to take a chance and jump feet first into something new and exciting. The two just looked at each other for a moment, Talia smiling hopefully and Mark with a dazed sort of look on his face. Given their clothes, and their location, they both seemed to recognize each other of residents of Alphabet City, fellow starving artists trying to find themselves.

"I wish I could," Mark started. "But I have this thing I'm late for…" he thumbed behind him in the general location of the community center. Talia nodded and rolled her eyes sheepishly, as though she should have known that he had somewhere to be.

"Right, sure, sorry," she answered with a wave. She started to walk backwards, away from him. "Well…thanks."

Mark smiled and nodded at her, watching her turn and leave, heading back down the street. With a sigh he got back on his bike, checked the road, and peddled towards the community center. Life seemed to have a cruel way of teasing him, lately.


	2. Coincidence or Fate Stepping In?

A/N: Here's Chapter Two. Don't know what I have to do to coax a review out of you people…so I'll go straight to the shameless begging. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top? I'm desperate here, people. Throw me a bone.

Should have mentioned this sooner, but Angel's alive because I say so.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own. 54 days till Rent comes to Greenville!

Chapter 2: Coincidence...or Fate Stepping In?

Mark and his friends burst into laughter as Angel and Collins sculpted a story of an infestation of mice and something to do with Play-doe. The group sat in a corner booth in the Life Café, plates and mugs scattered on the large table. Collectively, they'd had a good week, leading up to their celebration—Roger had just finished a three-night gig at a nearby night club, and Mark had sold an extra clip to his new employer. The filmmaker had started working for an independent photographer. It was perfect—the job left him plenty of time to work on his films, it paid enough to keep them in rent, food, and meds (as long as they were careful), and the guy he was working for ran a small independent studio—so Mark didn't feel like he was selling out.

Across the café, Talia Sandburg sat in a booth with a soda and a sandwich. A notebook lay open next to her plate, and she held a pen in one hand as she absently picked up a chip with the other. She sat for a moment, tapping the base of the pen on her chin. Finally she jotted down whatever though had come into her head and popped the chip into her mouth.

Loud laughter interrupted her though process and Talia looked up, distracted. Her gaze carried her to the corner of the room, her eye catching hold of a blond in the middle of the group. She recognized him instantly—it had only been a few days, and it was hard to forget the face of the man who'd saved her life. That, and he was pretty cute.

Glancing at her watch, Talia signaled the waiter. A few moments later, her food was bagged up, and she was getting ready to leave. Glancing at the corner booth one more time, she smiled; it would appear that Mark hadn't noticed her.

About the same time, Mark and his friends asked for their checks. Anton brought them over and passed them out by couple, but when he was empty-handed, Mark still found himself without a ticket. "Anton, dude, I need mine too," he laughed.

The feminine black man shrugged his shoulders. "Already been taken care of, honey," he answered with a grin. Mark rolled his eyes.

"Look, Anton, I already told you, I'm flattered, but I'm _not_ going out with you." Mark tried not to blush as his friends snorted and burst into giggles.

Anton gave him a _look_. "Not by me. A _girl_." At Mark's confused look, the waiter sighed and pointed to a red-head across the room, talking to the maitre d'. As if on cue, Talia looked up and met his gaze, and smiled. "Said she owed you." Mark absently heard Anton's explanation, and found himself returning the girl's smile.

"Oooo, Mark, somethin' you need to tell us?" Collins asking, taking a drag from his joint. Mark shook himself out of his stupor and shook his head. Noticing that Talia was heading out the door, he poked Roger and gestured for he and Mimi to let him out of the booth. Sliding out, Mark crossed the restaurant, maneuvering around patrons and dodging waiters, before finally making it out the door to catch up with Talia.

"Hey," he called. She turned, a little surprised that he had followed her out the door. Mark stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked towards her. "You know, you didn't have to do that."

Talia smiled. "I know," she answered. "But I wanted to." Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she laughed nervously. "Besides, I earned a little extra money this week. Wanted to spend it on something special."

"Really?" Mark looked intrigued. "What do you do? Photography?"

Talia shook her head. "I'm a writer, actually. I do freelance for the Voice. Sometimes I sell them pictures too, but that's mostly for inspiration."

"Oh." Mark nodded and looked impressed. "That sounds pretty cool." As he ambled closer, he passed by the window of the Life café. He tried not to look when he noticed all of his friends huddled by the window, trying to see what he was doing. He also tried to ignore the fact that Angel was pointing at Talia and mouthing 'ask her out' as though she were shouting it.

"Look, me and some friends, we're going to a show at the Stage tomorrow. You know, on 11th street?" Talia nodded.

"Yeah, I know it. Maureen's show, right? I was gonna go, maybe get some pictures and do a review or something for the Voice," she answered. Mark looked a little off-guard.

"Oh. Right, so…maybe I'll…see you there," Mark said hopefully. Talia smiled and nodded.

"Maybe." The two fell into an awkward silence. "Well…I've gotta go. Taking food to my brother," she said, holding up the bag. "So…maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Mark said. He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you will." With a grin, Talia turned and headed back up the street. Mark stood there, watching her leave. Suddenly he was barraged by his friends surrounding him begging for details.

"So, did you ask her out?" Angel asked.

"No, I did not ask her out," Mark answered firmly. "I barely know her."

"'mmm, but she paid for your dinner," Mimi said suggestively.

"That was just…she just felt like she needed to repay me for something," Mark said. He started walking in hopes of outrunning the conversation. Unfortunately, he had no such luck.

"Ooo, repay you for what?" Angel asked. Mark sighed before launching into the story of the incident that had sparked the whole event. He had a feeling this wasn't going away anytime soon. And from the look he'd seen on Talia's face, he wasn't sure that he wanted it to.

* * *

Okay guys, hit the pretty blue button and tell me what you think! Remember, save a muse, send a review! 


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